Everyone Had Them
by my black crimson rose
Summary: Squel to "You can Tell A lot". Everyone has problems, personality flaws, disagreements, and all out fights. But the point is to not let that cripple you, or you'll end up missing out on life... Seiner


**[Everyone had them…]**

Everyone had their little problems, or addictions. Some had to brush their teeth three times a day, others had to figure out people based off the footwear they chose to wear. Some people say they don't have any problems, or little personality quirts like those. But everyone has them and sometimes the very person who has it doesn't even know.

I would have said I had fallen into that second category, but I would be a liar.

My name is Seifer Almasy; I'm a senior at Twilight Town High School. I knew I had a problem the moment I knew what a problem was. I have many actually. And not all of them deal with my personality; there goes most of your guesses. I won't share with you the story of poor little orphan Seifer either, I don't want your sympathy, nor do I want your damn pity.

It was another cold winter day in Twilight Town, school had started again. My return was greeted with back pressed against lockers and nervous eyes following my very heels. The staff would be watching me very carefully this day, and most likely for the rest of the week. I wouldn't be able to get off scot-free for being late to class for a smoke break, wouldn't be able to pick fights, and wouldn't really be able to have any of my typical fun.

And that was fine with me; I had a Chicken too deal with, in a non-violent manner. A lot had happen in the remainder of last week; a lot of headaches and sour conversations, but not once had he left, or a punch had been thrown. It was almost unnerving how much he had wanted to, and still wants to; prove that he wishes to be a part of my mismatched family.

"_You're stuck with me now," _he had said two nights ago before leaving for home, and I for work. And he was right, I was stuck with him. Ever since that one morning that he had said he wished to join my family, I may have laughed it off, but I knew I had already accepted it. And that's what sucks.

"Hey jerk!" Even just the thought of him had sent him running, just imagine what I can do if I simply voiced his presence. With that in mind I continued to first period class, slower than before. Jerk is not my name, so it's not what I'm going to reply to. "Don't walk away from me, you ass!" The fifteen year old shouted finally catching up to me.

I sighed, hooking two fingers into the collar of his shirt (can you even call it a collar though?) pulling the shirt from his body. "I don't reply to anything that isn't my name," I hissed leaning down to his level. My eyes traveled to his blinding grin, a pink hue stained his cheeks.

"Are you trying to look down my shirt?" his smile grew, tugging on my hand with his own, but never removing it from his shirt.

I laughed releasing my hold on him, "you're flat, no muscles, no tits, nothing worth looking at," I grin, leaning in, "now, if you looked like me, there might be something worthwhile to check out." Flirting was another thing that just started happening. I have no clue how, but it just happened.

The sophomore raised a brow, "Oh really? What do you have that I don't?" he crossed his arms.

I grinned, my turn to show off, brat. Hooking my fingers under my shirt and pulled up, revealing a toned chest. I would go into detail, but I'm afraid I would cause fainting from sexiness, and god-like handsome-ity. I'm just an everyday Shakespeare. "I don't think you have rock hard abs like these, now do you Chicken-wuss?"

His face reheated from a faint pink to a deep red, his friend behind him gagged; the blonde shit couldn't handle all of this it seems. I smirked resting a hand on those very abs I mentioned before, trailing my hand ever the slightest up and down. The female in Hayner's party flushed, her jaw slackened. "Mr. Almasy, please cover yourself this instant!" shouted Mrs. Copperwell. Mrs. Copperwell was an elderly woman with her hair pulled constantly in a tight bun on the top of her head, she was my math teacher last year—a real bitch that one.

"Yes Mrs. Copperwell," I grin wolfishly, letting my shirt fall back down into place. The old bat glared at me once more before returning to the teacher's lounge. "What class do you have first, Chicken?"

His chocolate eyes stared at the ground in front of him, maybe even my boots? "History," he said, his gaze traveled back to my face.

"I'll walk you too it," I hung an arm over his shoulder, forcing him to keep pace; his face seemed to have a permanent blush caked on to his cheeks. His fingers clenched around his binder, I was surprised he hadn't pushed me away by now.

"We're taking the wrong stairs."

I chuckled, "all stairs lead to somewhere," I leaned down ever the slightest, "I just get to parade you around all red faced for even longer this way."

He stared, mouth slacked, "you planned this, you jerk!" He pushed me away once we made it to the second floor.

I grinned, "I did no such thing," I replied right by his ear.

**[…problems, personality flaws…]**

He stood in the middle of my kitchen, an apple in hand and his phone in the other. "Mom—yeah Mom, okay. Well I was calling to say that I'm staying over at a friend's place," I chuckled as I heard the woman's voice rise even higher. For a kid who had just about nothing, I always liked to have my food stocked—I ate a lot, well just look at me. I have to get enough to keep up with my exercise and natural fast metabolism. I took out a bottle of water for my guest and myself, placing them on the counter so I could continue my fun. My breath blew hot against the back of his neck; my fingers tickled his hips, sending a shutter up his spine. "I'm—"he gulped thickly as I placed a kiss just below his hairline, "I'm at Roxas', I'll be home tomorrow."

We'll see about that.

He was the one that started all of this, touching, shit. He was the one that kissed me first; I'm just far more forceful. Yes, our lips have not made contact with the others but that's only in a matter of time. I'm seventeen, nearly eighteen, what do you expect? I'm not a virgin, and I damn well don't want to be. I'm happy with being sexually active, thanks for asking. The point being though is that I do push him, but he pushes right back.

I took the fruit from his hand, brown eyes glared at me. _"What are you doing?"_ they read, I winked moving back out of sight. Teeth met skin, causing him to yelp—and I to chuckle. The woman on the phone fussed, "It's nothing mom, I… I just stubbed my toe. I'll be fine. I'll see you tomorrow… I love you too. Bye!" The teenager threw the phone onto the island before whipping around to face me. His face was the very shade of red as the apple that sat on the island with his phone; his mouth wide about to shout something—anything really. This kid just liked to talk for the sake of hearing himself speak.

"Yes mommy, I love you mommy, come rescue me mommy," I grinned wickedly, our noses bumping. He glared pushing against me, only to find himself flush against the counter in his stead. "You're not going anywhere babe," I hummed, the grinned dulled into something… softer.

As much as it pained me to say.

"Jackass," he hissed back.

It wasn't gentle, and I never expected it to be. Our faces pressed together, it had just happened. His hand wove between my hair, pulling… tugging, mine found hipbone and pants. Pulling Hayner towards me, while my body pressed against his, forcing him further against the counter. The stain in my neck from the height difference was starting to become annoying.

When he pulled away to breathe (guess he hadn't kissed enough people to learn that you can breathe through your nose), he yelped (very unmanly) as I hiked him up onto the counter by his pants—that should help with the height. "Fucker, you could have ripped my pants—"

"You'll look better without them," I replied sealing his lips again. Our lips opened, tongues meshed, teeth knocked together. My hands never left his belt loops, using them to pull him closer. Tugging on the article of clothing.

His hands pushed my face away, "I don't wanna go any further than this," he panted.

I pushed myself away from him; did he think that I fucking wanted to sleep with him, right now? Yeah sure, that would be nice—nothing that I expected, but nice. "Do you think that sex is all I think about?" I asked, my back straightened.

His eyes traveled to the floor, I wasn't going to like his answer, "well…" he trailed off, looking at everything but me.

My shoulders stiffened, "what the fuck does that mean?" I growled, eyes narrowed.

His eyes snapped up to met mine, his body left the counter, "we'll you're not exactly fucking secretive about who you fuck!" he shouted. Mood ruined, it's beyond repair. The back of my mind screamed 'abort mission', little red lights flashed telling me to leave it. But when did I ever leave situations alone? That's just not me.

I grinned, not at all like the ones before, "Don't fucking start this shit, Hayner, it won't end well." There, last warning, I should give myself a pat on the back.

"I'm not going to be another notch you add to your bedpost!"

"I don't have a bed post, nor do I have a bed frame—or have you forgotten?" I replied, like the good old smartass that I was. He screamed in frustration, it made the sicko in me chuckle, in till he punched me in the face. It didn't hurt, just a sting, made my jaw clench and as well as my hand. He was family now—I can't hurt family… no, I had to go. I had to think about this, reasonably and in a calm mood.

His face turned to shock, "I… I'm so sorry—"

I stepped into my boots, grabbed my keys and my jacket. "I want you gone by the time I come back. Go back home to mother, or to your friends, I don't fucking care—just be anywhere but here." I slammed the door behind me.

**[…disagreements, and all out fights,]**

The door was unlocked when I returned home the next day. The lights were off and the curtains where still drawn, only the digital clock that shown 1:49AM in the pitch black room. I sighed, kicking of my boots as I latched the dead bolt and flicked the lock into place. The jacket I wore thrown hazardly onto the ground, I was tired, and I did not care. With every few steps I either stepped out of clothing, or threw them off, in till I was left with boxers, and standing at the foot of my bed.

So he stayed after all.

I huffed, unsure wither I should smile or frown…

So I smirked.

Lying down on the other side of the bed; away from him I spared him one last glance over my shoulder, before closing my eyes for the night.

**[but the point is to not let that cripple you…]**

The smell of coffee woke him that morning, his eyes shown—surprised, and troubled. "Let's get this straight loser," I started slamming the fridge door close. His brown eyes shot up to meet mine, "I don't want sex. Yeah, it'll be nice, but I don't need it. So it's unimportant. The fact is, you were the one who wanted to be a part of my family, and I'm not going to chase you away because of it. So make up your mind right now. Do you want to be with me, or do you wanna leave?"

His mouth opened and closed, "is the coffee fresh?" I raised an eyebrow, and nodded. "Then serve me up a cup, lover-boy."

**[because you end up missing out on life…]**


End file.
